by SL Naeole
Sighing, I placed my hand on his head, the act familiar and comforting. He sighed, knowing that soon I'd be playing with his hair and telling him that he'd score a lot more girlfriends if he'd stop using so much gel. Only this time I wouldn't say anything at all.
And that quickly, with just those few words of remorse from him, we fell back into our old routine, as if the betrayal, the heartache had never even happened. Perhaps I was an idiot for it, but this was Graham. Nothing could erase the history between us.
Soon, Janice was asking him if he wanted to stay for lunch, since we were obviously missing our previous guest. He agreed and took the spot next to me that Robert had occupied. It bothered me--how deeply my heart had been broken, how miserable I had felt, and how easily all had been seemingly forgiven and forgotten by him. I felt cheated somehow--I expected so much more from this--but accepted that for now, this was better than the alternative.
Graham stayed until dinner, when his mother came to visit with a tray of vegetarian lasagna in her hands. He said he'd be over in the morning before school to see how I was doing, and then they left. Dad hadn't said a word until it was time for bed and I was trying to hop up the stairs with his help; pretending that I couldn't walk was going to be tedious.
"Grace, how do you feel about Graham coming back into your life now that you have Robert in it as well?"
I didn't answer until we were at my bedroom door.
"I don't know. I never--not in a million years--thought I'd be the girl with two guys in my life, two guys that I care about a lot. Up until a few hours ago, I was still amazed that I had even one."
Dad opened my door and helped me into my room. I gasped. It. Was. Clean!! Janice must have done this; I wondered what she thought of my disorderly room...and where exactly she had hid everything. Dad helped me hop to the bed and then went to grab me a pair of boxers and a tank top. He sat down on the bed next to me then, getting ready for what appeared to be a long talk.
Eyeing the clothes he had laid out, I decided that I could wait to change. This looked important.
"Grace, how much do you care about these boys?" he asked me.
"I care about them both a great deal, Dad." I said shyly, looking down at some invisible speck on the floor to avoid having to look into his face while answering. I knew that he'd hear the truth in my tone.
He took a hold of my right hand, cast and all, and sighed. "I was afraid of that. You realize what you're starting here, right? Two guys caring about the same girl--that girl caring about both of them?"
I nodded, understanding the point he was trying to make; but I also knew some facts that he didn't. "Dad, Graham and I are going to be nothing but friends. He has a girlfriend, they're 'serious', and no matter how close I may come to dying, he's never going to look at me the way he looks at her."
Dad put his hand under my chin and lifted my face up to look into my eyes, his features soft and warm. "That's his loss, Grace. But...you wish he would, right?"
I didn't know what to say to that. Part of me did want him to look at me the way he looked at Erica. It would be foolish to lie, especially since it wasn't that long ago that I had wanted that so very badly that when it became clear it would never happen, it crushed me. But there was that other part of me that knew when Robert looked at me, nothing could ever match the fire that burned inside of me. And I knew that I was more than willing to burn forever.
"I don't know what I want from Graham, Dad. Right now, his friendship is more than I expected, and I'll take what I can get if it means having him in my life again."
Dad seemed displeased by that answer, the aging lines returning to his forehead and mouth. "He hurt you pretty badly, Grace. I think if school hadn't started, you'd still be in your room-" he held my face in both of his hands like he did when I was a little girl "-and I just don't want you going down this road a second time, only to get hurt all over again. By either of them."
I raised my hands to cover his and squeezed his fingers, faking a wince as I did so to hide the fact that my arm wasn't broken after all, and kissed his cheek. "Dad, you know me so well, and yet you don't give me the credit I deserve."
He patted my thigh and kissed the top of head before standing to leave. He walked to my doorway and then turned around. "Grace, you've been the one constant in my life since your mother died. Always kind hearted, always generous and genuine. I always give you the credit you deserve. I just think that you might not be aware of your own heart, not where love is concerned. Love can make you blind to a lot of things, but most especially to what you really want and what's good for you." And then he was gone.
I thought about what he meant when he said that love makes us blind to what we really want. I knew what I wanted; I wanted love.
BODYGUARD
Restless nights don't make for very pleasant mornings. Sleeping in useless casts was beginning to get on my nerves. Dressing in clothes that were too small to get around the casts on my arm and leg, or too big to be any more useful than having a towel draped over my body was ranking a close second to not being able to go to the bathroom without having it be announced by my hopping to and from.
Janice made breakfast the morning after I came home while Dad helped me downstairs. I didn't know how long I'd be able to keep the charade of my broken limbs going, but it wouldn't be for long if the irritation didn't let up soon.
I sat down to a meal of scrambled eggs and bacon while Dad read the paper. The story of the hit and run was all over the front page. The mystery vehicle, the mystery driver, my injuries, and the hero were all there in black and white. It was difficult to swallow my eggs as the severity of the accident was described in detail in twelve point font.
Robert's face was prominently displayed next to my junior year photo--I gagged at the blatant juxtaposition--right beneath the headline. There was a back story about his family on another page; I reminded myself to read it when Dad was done. I already knew more than anyone with a press badge would be able to dig up, but it would be interesting to know what exactly the media knew about him and his family.
There was a knock at the back door, and as though there had never been a change, never an absence of him in my life, Graham walked through the door and smiled at me. And pathetic me couldn't help it--I smiled back. That rush of happiness that I had always gotten when he smiled filled me up. It instantly got on my nerves, too. Well that was certainly different.
He sat down in the empty chair next to me and started eating from my plate, again falling back into routine. Perhaps I was so thin because I had never been able to finish a meal when he was around... I snatched a piece of bacon out of his hand, frowning at his need to steal food from an injured friend. "Hey!" he protested, reaching for the strip of meat in my hand.
"That's my bacon. Get your own." I barked, pulling my hand back. I laughed when he reached over to Dad's plate and grabbed the last one there. Dad was oblivious, too caught up in whatever it was that he was reading.
"Did you know that Robert's family is extremely wealthy, and apparently very philanthropic? Evidently they've donated money to the hospital and the firehouse for purchase of more ambulances and the hiring of new paramedics," Dad said from behind the paper, his hand reaching towards his now empty plate, feeling around for the bacon that was now digesting in Graham's bottomless stomach.
The paper bent down--Dad glared at Graham. "Don't your parents feed you?"
Graham smiled again. "Only enough to make it here." Then he laughed. "I've got to get going. I have to pick up Erica." He turned to face me, as if to see my reaction.
He got one. It was a scowl. A genuine, bona fide scowl.
He didn't like it, I could tell, but I didn't care. Erica was going to be a point of contention between the two of us until we were able to discuss her privately. Even then, I was sure that we'd butt heads about her. He just wasn't aware why...yet.
"Go on then. I'll see you around," I told him, my voice not exactly hiding my annoyance. He lightly punched my sho
ulder. Just like nothing had ever happened.
"Use the front door, Graham," Dad muttered from behind his paper again.
Graham nodded and started walking out of the kitchen. The doorbell rang then, and Janice went to answer it. She sure fell into the housewife role fast, I noticed.
My head lifted when I heard the commotion. It wasn't so much the shouting that suddenly made me forget about my cast on my leg and bolt out of my chair--hobbling like some demented horse towards the front door--but the sound of something heavy falling, and groaning that did. I raced out of the kitchen and stared at the scene that lay before me in the hallway fronting the entryway.
Graham--six-foot tall, football star Graham--was on the floor writhing in pain. A very manly pain. Standing over him, in all her five-foot-four-inch glory, was Stacy. My third period companion was wearing a very satisfied smirk on her face.
"Serves you right for being here, you jerk," she spat.
Janice was holding her hand to her mouth, trying to hide her laughter. "You appear to have a bodyguard, Grace," she whispered to before leaving me to deal with what had happened.
Stacy looked up at me, her face filled with concern as she took in my casts, and pointed to Graham who was still rolling on the floor. "This pathetic waste of skin here needed a little lesson on how to treat a lady."
She smiled as he flinched when she started walking towards me. "Since you're in no condition to do it, I thought I'd lend you a hand. Or foot." She looked me up and down, assessing the visible damage for herself. "How are you feeling? I didn't know you were home until I read the story in the paper this morning, and I had to come and see if you were okay."
This was the most she'd ever spoken to me at one time, and I was amazed at how much I enjoyed listening to it. "I'm fine, actually. I'll be able to go back to school in a couple of weeks."
The groans coming from the door grew louder and I sighed. The bigger they are, the harder it is to pick up their egos. "I know you meant well, Stacy, but we're going to have to help Graham up. He came over yesterday and apologized for everything he did, and I forgave him. We're working things out...sorta."
She looked at me, shocked. "You're a lot better person than I am." She walked back towards Graham, and muttered, "Must be the non-Korean half."
Together, Stacy with amazing strength for her size, and me with...erm...amusement, helped Graham to a sitting position. His face was red. I don't know if it was from embarrassment or pain, but I couldn't help but feel a little bit satisfied in it. I owed Stacy now. Friendship for life was the least I could offer her.
"Graham, are you okay?" I asked, trying very hard to keep the corners of my mouth from curling up.
While waiting for his response, I caught a movement out of the corner of my eye. Dad had poked his head out of the kitchen to see for himself what Janice had probably already described. Seeing Graham on the floor, and Stacy standing next to him, her petite frame tense from her anger and frustration seemed to please him. He flashed me a thumbs up and then disappeared.
"Wh-ugh-why did you k-ki-kick me?" Graham finally wheezed.
Stacy shrugged her shoulders as she replied, "You deserved it. And I don't like you. And you hurt my friend. And there are a lot of other reasons, but the only one that matters right now is because I knew it would feel good to do it."
I had to admit, those were pretty good reasons. Especially the one about him hurting her friend...me. I was quite pleased about that one. "Graham, are you okay?" I asked again, this time not fighting down the smile that filled half of my face.
"I guess I deserved that...I'm okay, Grace. Just need a minute," he panted.
Stacy rolled her eyes. "You've already had five."
I laughed at that one. Graham didn't, and it didn't bother me one bit. "Come on, Graham. You need to get up now. Your girlfriend isn't going to be very understanding of the fact that you were late because you were at my house."
"It's the peroxide..." Stacy mumbled, coming forward to help me lift Graham to his feet.
Graham took a deep breath and tried his best to regain his composure. "I'll come by after practice to see how you're doing, okay? That is, if you don't mind the company." He looked warily at Stacy, who was smiling. Like a cat would at a mouse. A very kickable mouse.
"I don't mind, Graham. I'll see you later. Have fun at school," I said as he limped out of the house.
Stacy watched him shuffle towards his house and shook her head. "That guy is no good. He acts like a complete ass and thinks he's God's gift to women. I've seen what that is, and he doesn't even come close." She gave me another once over. "So I know the newspaper account. Do you mind if I hear it from the horse's mouth?" She asked, cutting to the chase.
"What do you want to know?" I replied, hobbling over to the couch, the casts suddenly feeling very heavy with the burden of their lie.
She helped me as I tried to sit down and then sat on the coffee table. A very un-Korean thing to do, that's for sure. I didn't remember much about my mother's culture, but I knew you didn't sit on tables in other people's houses.
"I wanted to know what happened. I mean, stuff like this doesn't just happen, you know? And whoever did this is still out there. Maybe if you told me, I could be on the lookout." She smiled, my own personal bodyguard.
I laughed as the image of her shoving people out of my way while I was walking up and down the hallways of our school popped into my head. She seemed to know what I was thinking because she started laughing, too. It felt unbelievably comfortable, sitting here sharing a private joke with her, and I thought to myself that I could definitely get used to it.
Sobering up to the reality of what she wanted to hear, however, I began telling her the details of what had led up to, and what had happened immediately after the accident. When I got to the part about the brown shoes, she stopped me.
"Did you say he was wearing brown shoes and black laces?" She asked me, her eyes wide...alarmed.
I nodded my head. "Yes. They were pretty expensive shoes, too. It looked like he polished them or something. Not even a scuff or scratch mark were on them. I should know. I got a pretty damn close-up view of them."
Stacy's jaw stuck out, while an idea seemed to be bouncing around in her head, trying to find the correct slot to fall into. "Heath's not a big town. I'm sure it'd be quite easy for the police department to find someone with fancy brown shoes and black laces who owns a car with front end damage. I didn't read about the shoes in the paper though, so at least the guy doesn't know that he can be identified."
I wondered then if she were right. And if she had spent way too much time watching or reading crime dramas. "The police only really have bits and pieces of what happened. I wasn't able to give a full statement while in the hospital because my dad had to be hospitalized, too, so he couldn't give his permission for them to talk to me. That pretty much means whatever the paper has...it's not what I gave to the cops."
Stacy pondered what I had said before looking at her watch. "I gotta get going before I'm late for school. I think I'll stop by after Tae Kwon Do class and see how you're doing. I'm really glad you're okay, Grace, just so you know. I was really worried about you. Thank you for telling me all of this."
I thought back to when I had been lying on the road, when I had seen the faces of all the people I cared about pass before my eyes, and I remembered that she had been there among them. It had surprised me then, but I understood that she was a part of my life that had made me happy. It brought a little normalcy to the life that I had always felt was so dismally abnormal, I'd never find a place for myself in it other than as the freakish oddity.
I gave her a genuine smile. "Thank you for coming, Stacy. It means a lot. Really."
She smiled back and then gave me an awkward hug; awkward not only because I wasn't expecting it, and because I hugged her back, but because she wasn't expecting me to. If the huge grin on her face was any indication, I'd have to say that she was very pleased.
I'd be lying if I said
I wasn't pleased as well.
SOLILOQUY
Sitting at home after Dad had gone to work, and with Janice upstairs cleaning out the spare room left me with a lot of time to think about what had happened these past days. In an instant, my life had changed. I went from being whole yet wholly missing to being broken, and completely found. The hit and run had altered my world again, shifted everything and this time, the world was upside down and I was right side up.
I was now someone worth fighting for, someone worth saving. The feeling was incredible. I had the overwhelming urge to burst into song, some cheesy musical number that included my off-beat dancing; I settled for the Time Warp.
That was how Janice found me; hysterical in my newfound joy, putting my hands on my hips--completely unabashed--pulling my knees in tight, and absolutely not showing any signs of a broken right leg or injured left one. I froze, seeing her face, the reaction, and knowing that I'd have to think of an explanation really quickly before she started suspecting me of faking my injuries.
I started to speak, the words ready to leave my mouth, when she began laughing at me. "Oh my goodness, those must be fantastic pain killers they have you on, Grace. Your dancing was hilarious!" She was laughing so hysterically, I almost felt offended. Almost. It's hard to feel offended when you know you look absolutely ridiculous.
I knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth, so I agreed with her on the pain killers comment and then sat down, still feeling giddy but cautious now that I knew I had an audience who wasn't quite willing to remain upstairs. I was feeling like my old self, just...happier. There was no other way to describe it. I was actually happier after being mowed down by a car than I was when I had been sitting on top of one, ready to spill my guts. The irony nearly sent me into another round of laughter because who really thinks it's better to have been in a hit and run?
I looked at the casts on my leg and arm. I knew that underneath them, my limbs were perfectly fine. But what if they weren't? What if Robert didn't have the ability to heal anyone? What if he didn't have the acute hearing he did? Where would I be now?